


The Things That I’m Going to Do

by spiffymittens



Category: Love Simon - Fandom, Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Masturbation, Mild Kink, Nipple Play, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-06 22:34:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14657604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiffymittens/pseuds/spiffymittens
Summary: Simon and Bram have been so busy with college that they haven’t been able to visit. Simon’s not sure he can wait for Thanksgiving after one particular phone call.





	The Things That I’m Going to Do

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yekoc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yekoc/gifts), [theyellowcurtains](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theyellowcurtains/gifts).



> For yekoc since it seems unfair that I get to enjoy all their excellent smut without contributing any of my own. Also for theyellowcurtains since she said she wanted less vanilla. Literally my first fic ever. :D

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Sept. 23 at 5:23 p.m.

SUBJECT: Missing you

Dear Bram,

I totally understand about you not being able to come down this month--you know I'm suffering through Intro to Organic Chemistry too, so I can sympathize. Last night I literally dreamed there were dancing benzene molecules chasing me! Probably a not so subtle hint from my subconscious that I need to study more. I'd suggest we study together over the weekend, but I don't think we'd get much studying done. ;)

Love, Simon

\-----

Simon closed his laptop and glared at the Chem textbook on the bedside table.

His roommate Paul caught the look as he walked into their dorm room and tossed his backpack onto his desk. "Man, what did that book ever do to you?"

Simon slid down the bed and dropped his head on the pillow. "Kept Bram from coming to see me this weekend. Again."

"Poor Simon," Paul laughed. "Cockblocked by chemistry."

Simon flipped him off without looking. "I don't even want to hear it from you. I had to sleep on the common room couch last night because you and Laura were so goddamn loud."

"What can I say? I'm irresistible," Paul grinned.

"And yet I am strangely unmoved," Simon said.

"Only because your heart is already taken, mi amor," Paul said. "Come on, let's go get some dinner. Get your mind off things."

"Nah, I'll eat later. Thanks though." He sketched a wave as Paul grabbed his keys and left again.

Simon picked up the offending textbook and a highlighter and prepared to wade back in. If he and Bram didn't get to see each other as often as they hoped this semester, he wanted to at least have decent grades to show for it. That, and a sore dick from constant wanking, but who was counting?

He and Bram had done a lot of exploring the summer before college, and while they hadn't felt ready for penetrative sex, they'd had all kinds of fun working their way up from dry humping to hand jobs to blow jobs--plenty of material for a hormonal 18-year-old to call up when things got...frustrating.

Which they were. Simon missed Bram more than he’d known it was possible to miss someone. Even leaving home was a distant second to the constant ache he felt in his chest, imagining Bram’s quiet eyes and quick laugh. The way Simon’s chin fit exactly in the crook of Bram’s neck when they hugged. Bram’s big hands that made him feel so small and cared for when they—

Simon cut off his thoughts with a wrench. Thinking of Bram got him all amped up and he was so, so goddamn tired of beating off by himself. He had a chemistry test tomorrow, and sitting here moping wasn’t going to help.

Ten minutes later, the new email chime rang on his phone. Simon glanced at his phone and felt a warm glow when he saw it was from Bram. Chemistry could wait.

\-----

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Sept. 23 at 5:33 p.m.

SUBJECT: Re: Missing you

Dear Simon,

Thanks for being so understanding, babe. I hate this so much. :( And by "this", I mean 1) Organic Chemistry and pretty much every other class I have this semester, and 2) Not being able to kiss you (or do anything else to you) until Thanksgiving.

Frustratedly,

Bram

_____

Simon’s blood was suddenly singing, alive with the possibilities of what “or do anything else to you” might entail. 

Bram's special new text message tone chimed almost immediately after Simon finished reading the email. He opened his messages app, curious.

_My laptop just died (need to get a new battery for that thing!) but I just had to ask: when you said we wouldn't get much studying done, what did you have in mind instead?_

Simon nearly dropped his phone. He and Bram had gotten flirty over email and text before, but never anything explicit. Was Bram really proposing what Simon thought he was proposing? Maybe they couldn't see each other this weekend, but...maybe they could do something else? If Simon could figure out how to do this, that is. If that’s what Bram had in mind too, that is.

Feeling not a little embarrassed, he stalled a bit: _Hmmm, I think we'd have to make sure my roommate was out of the room first._

 _Obviously_ , Bram wrote back. _But once we get him out of the room, then what?_

Holy shit. Bram was _definitely_ on the same page.

 _Well, first I'd want to kiss your beautiful mouth, over and over_ , Simon wrote, his face hot.

 _I like the sound of that_ , Bram wrote. _Then what?_

 _Whatever you want me to do_ , Simon wrote back, without thinking.

There was a longer pause before Bram replied this time.

 _Jesus Christ, Simon_ , Bram wrote. _Do you have any idea what it does to me when you say that?_

 _No, what?_ Simon went for coy, because he sure as hell wasn't up to explaining the weird feeling that went zinging up his spine when he imagined Bram telling him to do something.

 _Well...it kind of makes me want to tell you to do things,_ Bram wrote. Then immediately followed up with: _omg that sounds so gross and porny. I'm sorry I'm sorry. We can talk about something else if you want._

Simon laughed. It helped, knowing Bram was feeling just as awkward as he was. But dear god, he was now hard as a rock and more than willing to see where this went. _Don't be sorry_ , he wrote. _Idk, but it's kind of hot thinking about you telling me what to do? Just sometimes???_

And it was. A whole new universe of fantasies blazed through Simon's brain, so fast he could barely comprehend them. He adjusted himself in his boxers. The room was too hot.

The typing bubbles appeared and disappeared several times. Then the phone rang. It was Bram.

"Bram?" Simon said, immediately embarrassed by how breathy his voice was.

"Simon," Bram answered, not breathy, but gravelly. "Are you fucking serious with me right now? You want me to...be in charge or something?"

"I swear to god, I had no idea, but yeah, that sounds hot as fuck right now," Simon said.

"I...okay, Simon," Bram said, sounding a little uncertain. "What...where are you now?"

"Sitting on my bed," Simon answered promptly. "My roommate just left for dinner.”

There was a longer pause, and Simon heard Bram start to speak several times. _This must be just as embarrassing for him as it is for me_ , Simon thought, and loved his usually shy boyfriend even more for being willing to try this new thing.

Then finally, Bram spoke: "What are you wearing?"

Possibly the cringiest phone sex line in history, but Simon’s cock was all for it. How was it even possible to get this hard, this fast?

"Just a t-shirt and boxers,” he answered.

"Are you hard?"

"God, yes."

"Are you touching yourself?" Bram said.

"Yes," Simon moaned, squeezing himself through his shorts.

Bram took a deep breath and Simon could almost hear the click as Bram pushed through his inhibitions and just went for it. "Stop now."

"What?"

"I mean take your hand off your fucking cock right now, Simon."

Simon almost came right then and there. He moaned helplessly as he pulled his right hand away from himself and fisted it in the sheets. What was _wrong_ with him?

Bram's voice got even lower and holy shit, Simon had no idea that Bram Greenfeld, who blushed the first time he saw Simon's cock, was even capable of this. "Did you do it? Did you do as you’re told?"

"Yes," Simon breathed, feeling almost drunk. "I did what you said."

"Good boy," Bram said curtly. "If I don't get to touch that beautiful cock, you don't either."

Simon moaned again, aware that he was embarrassingly close to coming and he wasn't even touching himself. Bram didn't sound that far off himself.

"Now, Simon," Bram paused and swallowed. His voice was rough but uneven. "I want you to put your hand up your shirt and touch your nipples. Just gently circle them with the tips of your fingers.”

Simon obediently inched his hand under his shirt, fingers trembling as they reached their destination. He bit off a gasp as his nipples hardened to pebbles. Bram loved touching Simon’s nipples, and maybe that was the point.

”I’m—I’m touching them,” he said.

”Good. Now pinch them, just a little. Tell me how it feels.”

Simon did. The world had narrowed to his nipples, his cock, and Bram’s voice. “It feels...Jesus, it feels like...everything. Like my nipples are connected to my cock. I want to come so bad.”

“Not yet,” said Bram. “Now I want you to tell me what you imagined doing to me. Tell me everything."

Simon paused, still a little shy. "I imagined...you came back to my room and we were alone," Simon started.

"And?"

Simon started to speak twice but couldn’t make the words come. Why was this so difficult? If Bram could deal with his embarrassment enough to take charge, then surely the least Simon could do was play along with his own fantasy. He went for broke:

"I wanted you so bad, but you made me beg for it," he whispered. Bram sucked in an unsteady breath on the other end. Simon could just hear a quiet, rhythmic slap on the other end and realized Bram was beating off furiously.

"Oh Christ, you would, wouldn't you?" Bram growled. "Would you beg for my cock? Like a good little slut?”

Simon's eyes rolled back in his head. It took him a minute to respond. "Oh god, yes,” he babbled. “I’d get on my knees and beg while my cock leaks all over the ground. Bram, I need you so bad," he panted.

"Are you going to come all over yourself thinking about sucking my cock?" Bram said. "Does that get you hot, imagining me pulling your hair and fucking your pretty mouth?" And then Simon wailed and arched his back helplessly and he was coming and coming and coming, his fingers still clamped over his nipple.

He closed his eyes and saw little white flashes, as if he'd almost passed out. He felt like he'd just run the 100-meter dash while high. He'd had more orgasms than he could count since he started masturbating but this...this was in a whole different realm of come.

He fumbled for the phone and picked it up. "Bram, I came, I’m sorry," he croaked.

"Don’t be sorry, so did I" Bram said, and exhaled a shaky laugh. "I can't believe we just did that."

"Me neither," Simon said. "I didn't even know I wanted that."

"Neither did I," Bram answered. "I mean, I didn't know you wanted it, and I didn't know I wanted it too."

"I mean, it's not like we're doing this every time, right? I'm not wearing dog collars or whatever," Simon said.

"No, no, of course not," Bram said quickly. "But...I don't know. It was really, really fucking hot."

"Exactly," Simon said, then mustered all his courage: "But maybe we could do it again? Sometime soon?"

"Most definitely," Bram said. "After all, it's two more months to Thanksgiving, and things are bound to get, you know, fraught.”

They talked for a few more minutes and said their goodbyes. Simon hung up with a smile on his face and reached for a tissue to clean himself. Fraught, indeed.

 


End file.
